The Warner sun. (Warner, Brown Co., Dakota [S.D.]) 1885-1???, 1887-01-14
AN UNDERGROUND TRAGEDY

. req at Intervals, WOcu buC utlul WIN lllit
for q space, and allowed the heavy clouds to
collect in a heavy mass overhead. The streets
of London were slushy, and the paVements
cold and slippery with their coating OF soft
mud. At7:30 p. m, the diurnal rush from
city TO suburb had died its usual natural
death. The bearish scramble for the omnibus
was over for the day; so also the food tide Of
human traffic on the Underground Railway,
OF brain toilers in the city only those who had
been detained by unusual causes or by stress
Of work were abroad.
Among the stragglers who hurried into the
harrington Street station about the hour men
toned, a tall man with somewhat bowed
shoulders might have been remarked. There
was nothing particularly striking about his
appearance save his beard, which was unusu-
ally thick and unkempt for these prim times.
His clothes were Of a cut and preservation
such as to suggest the possession by their
wearcr of average means. He wore an ordi-
nary overcoat Of dark material, the collar of
which was turned up; and in his glOveless
hand gloves are out Of place in such wealth
err he carried an umbrella dry and furled.
'Gower Street." said the person l have
briefly described, on STOPPING to present his
face at the window Of the ticket office.
What clsssw
''First." Then, while the clerk was stamp
ing the ticket the bearded man, with some
elaboration, laid his umbrella on the ledge
Of the window and proceeded to draw some
money from his pocket. Having paid for and
received his ticket, he hurried away.
chip shouted the clerk you're leaving
your umbrella" The mau came back, took
~. ..,b.oIo rnuktoraJ lSThapL- yDu't in bis
beard, and again hurried away.
Funny customer that! soliloguized the
clerk. Doesn't use his umbrella, and doesn't
remember it. A good CAMP wasted on an
idiot-and in such weather as this too"
Meanwhile the absent-minded stranger had
had his ticket clipped, passed through the
gates and reached the platform. Here he
stood mOtionieSS under the board "Wait here
for first class" He had not long to wait. In
n few moments a train drew up at the plat
form. 1t was fairly peOpled in the third class,
and sparsely in the second, while the first
class compartments In the centre of the train
were all unoccupied with the exception of one.
That one contained a solitary man, and into
shat compartment the bearded traveller. after
Q hurried glance at the other carriages, enter
ed. No one else entered the carriage after
the man whose movements we are following.
A few moments aud the train moved on to
Kings Cross-a very short run from Earring
ton; one of the shortest, in fact on the line
The bearded man bad taken the corner next
She door he had entered and fronting the
engine. His face was turned toward his fel-
Low-passenger; but its expression could not
have been seen through his beard, aud even
his eyes were concealed By his hat, which he
had pulled forward. The other occupant of
the compartment sat at the far end, with his
back toward the engine. He was middle-a ged,
very slight in figure, and well-dressed. His
face was thin, delicate, and extremely agree
able; his hair both of head and face was
somewhat grey, short, and carefully trimmed.
Altogether this passenger had an air of neat
ness and refinement about him. You would
have said at once that he was a gentleman.
The train stopped at Kings Cross, and then
started on its longer run to Cover Street, and
stil these two men were alone. Perhaps the
foul sulphurous atmosphere peculiar to the
Underground Railway was more pronounced
here, for as the train moved from the station
the bearded man CALCULATED 'Bahr' and
shifted from the window half way along the
seat His fellow-passenger, who, with his hat
pushed back from his high white forehead,
was smiling over one of the comic papers,
looked up for a moment, and returned to his
diversion. A moment An innocent, half
surprised glance at the man who sat with
down-turned face almost exactly opposite him.
That was all. no instinct of peril No
prompting to vigilance and defence.
For the bearded mans hand had erept to his
pocket, and his eyes blazing with greed for
crime had risen from the floor and fastened
upon bis neighbours breast from which the
e~yercoat had been drawn aside. And still
there was no instinct Of danger, no thought
of III, as the small man read his last witticlsm
aud smiled has last smile and so smiling re-
ceiyed to its hilt in his breast the sharp, fierce
driven knife. A short strange, horrible gasp,
the victims last effort at respiration, and a
moving Of startled, death-hlled eyes, which,
staring for q moment, with DO recognition,
but wondering horror at the murderer, asked,
sWhat have / done to theei' and then the
stricken mans head fell upon his breast and
his life went out.
One minute only had passed since the train
left Kings Cross and time was still with the
murderer. Many moments would pass before
Cover Street was reached, precious momentsi
He had dane the murder; he had still to save
himself. He had stood while bis victim died,
bent forward and motionless-cyes hidden
by the muscular contraction Of forehead and
checks, aud the glIttering white teeth show
ing through the thick beard and mustache. He
recovered himself by spasmotic movememnt.
His first care was to throw the comic paper
out Of the window. Then he seized the warm
dead body which had slipped down along the
seat, and propped II sitting upright In the
corner, while the still limp fingers OF the right